


hold onto me (pretty baby you will see)

by sunkissing



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Homophobia, M/M, dreamies and yukhei are only mentioned, except for renjun and jaemin who make a five second appearance with seulgi, implied norenmin ot3, its in the past but still p relevant, ok its more blatant than implied but still, tldr its 9.7k of markhyuck stuck in a store au nobody needed or wanted but still got
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 00:38:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14630370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunkissing/pseuds/sunkissing
Summary: There's something about him. A faint sheen of glowing bronze, a plaster stuck haphazardly on one cheek, eyeliner heavy, cheekbones high and mouth pursed thoughtfully that makes Mark very happy about taking a night shift if it means having an adonis of a customer. His breath catches in his throat when the boy's eyes flicker to him and widen for a fraction of second.The boy takes out a headphone, blinks once, opens his mouth and ㅡ"What thefuckis that?"





	hold onto me (pretty baby you will see)

**Author's Note:**

> hey its new ao3 user sunkissing already on her bullshit with her first fic... anyways this may or may not have been entirely based on [these etheral gifs of donghyuck](http://dovounq.tumblr.com/post/171759588292/hes-so-powerful) and [this vid of markhyuck being in their own world.](https://youtu.be/RmKJ1DYOwYA?t=25m22s)  
> special shoutout to letitia for being my hype boss during the duration of this fic being written and not telling me to study like she should have love u still

It's one in the morning and from behind his counter, Mark sees the boy in aisle four.

He's never seen him before in his town (or at least he  _thinks_  he hasn't, but he's not quite sure because a week ago Jaemin had singlehandedly ended his short journey of awareness by saying eloquently enough, "Mark hyung, you're honestly just _dumb_ " and never has silence spoken so loudly.

Right now, he kind of feels like he's gained enough brownie points to tell Na Jaemin to  _suck it_  because he knows the boy in the store is new, even though he can only see three quarters of the back of the stranger's head, the barest hint of a mole under an eye and the airpods plugged in that's a visual representation of the words 'do not disturb'.

So Mark, intelligent,  _clever_  Mark, disturbs him.

"Hey," he calls out abruptly, perched forwards as he rests his elbows on the counter.

( He remembers when Seulgi had hissed “don't do that”, less than four hours ago as well as, "it implies you're not enjoying your job."

"I don't think anyone does," he had hissed back, a mocking tone to his voice as he watches her hide a smirk and jab him in his side, right between his ribs. "Noona, I ㅡ I mean, there's  _literally_ nobody else here besides us."

She rolled her eyes, though it's with less tact and more pity directed at him for having to man the till for the next eight hours. She shoved a mop in his direction. "What, d'you want to be on mopping duty if you're so anxious to move about?"

He stands up straight. )

"I haven't seen you before." He continues, "Are you new to town?"

Apparently silence is his best friend because that's all he's greeted with, save for the sound of light footsteps tapping along aisle six and the rustle of Doritos as they're dropped into a shopping basket.

Somewhere in the distance, maybe some four miles away, he swears he hears Jisung and Chenle ugly laugh in unison as well as the latter slapping money into the former's too large hands, mumbling "I thought he wouldn't creep out another customer."

It happens more than he likes to admit.

The worst thing is, when Yukhei checks the CCTV footage later on ( _if_  the idiot remembers to, unlike the last four days he's forgotten), he'll see Mark's failure, and tell Joohyun, who by nature would tell Seulgi, who'd tell Jaemin, who'd tell Jeno, who'd tell Renjun, who'd tell ㅡ

The story happens every time, really, the moral is just that Mark shouldn't speak and somehow, he always ends up opening his mouth like the Yukhei sized idiot he is.

He picks at the dry paint that's chipping off the counter and reminds himself to tell Joohyun that they need to repaint it because it's evident the colour won't last between his habit of picking at it and the drag of hundreds of plastic bags across it daily. Knowing her as both the short albeit fierce woman that runs the so called cafe, so called convenient store and the more familiar term Joohyun noona, she'll probably get him to buy  _and_  paint it and he'll need to act like he's annoyed with having to do so when Yukhei is and always  _will_  be free. 

He's scowling about it when stranger boy rounds the corner, and that's when Mark finally gets a  _good_  look at him.

The first thing that dawns on him like the sun is that he's pretty. Pretty to the point where Mark forgets momentarily that he's a dumb student that's only there to get extra funding for his  _Get Mark Lee a Guitar_ campaign.

There's something about him. A faint sheen of glowing bronze, a plaster stuck haphazardly on one cheek, eyeliner heavy, cheekbones high and mouth pursed thoughtfully that makes Mark very happy about taking a night shift if it means having an adonis of a customer. His breath catches in his throat when the boy's eyes flicker to him and widen for a fraction of second. 

God works in mysterious ways, he thinks.

They're doe's eyes, wide and Mark wonders whether he needs to congratulate himself for brushing his hair that night. A greeting is on the tip of his tongue, something that's halfway between a "hey, how are you?" and a "hey, you're beautiful" when the gaze shifts from him to  _behind_  him, and the boy suddenly pales with no warning. The boy takes out a headphone, blinks once, opens his mouth and ㅡ

"What the  _fuck_  is that?"

The momentary shock of hearing crude words coming from that mouth dies down fairly quickly. Out of pure cashier instinct and a smidge of disappointment Mark spins around and is greeted face to face with a much too large chain sitting across the only entrance and exit of the store.

It takes a few moments for the weight of the situation settle in and when it does, he jerks so suddenly another four square centimetres of paint is pulled off the countertop. "What the  _fuck_?" he parrots, throwing a disbelieving look at the chain, then back at the boy, then back at the chain, then back at the boy. "Why is it locked?"

"Don't you work here?" He snaps back. His voice is cold and torn on the corners, softer in the centre. "How am  _I_  supposed to know why it's locked?"

"Maybe the janitor didn't see us in here," Mark offers, settling for shifting so that he can rattle the door handle uselessly.

The stupid chain doesn't even budge.

"The janitor just  _happened_  to not see the lights on and  _happened_  not to see the cashier standing inside either?" There's a scoff in his words and Mark thinks,  _he's mocking me_. "This is ridiculous. Is this some sick way of making money off your customers?" 

He spares a look down at their custom made plastic bags with the words ' _a customer's happiness is our happiness_ ' printed on. "No." A second passes. "This doesn’t make sense, Mrs Lee  _loves_  me." He says to himself, almost horrified at the prospect of the lovely elderly woman locking them in on purpose. She'd been working as a janitor for two years now and had, in Mark's opinion, received the short end of the stick when she ends up seeing how stupid he is everday.

An even worse thought strikes him.

 _Mrs Lee loves Jaemin more_.

Mark's fishing out his phone from his pocket as soon as the thought is finished and he almost drops it in his hurry to call the devil himself. Jaemin picks up on the third ring (alarmingly quick for him) and he pulls the phone away from his ear when he hears Chenle cackle like he has everything in the world as well as the thump of heavy bass.

They're at a party. A  _party_.

"Give the phone to him." Mark whispers dangerously. He pretends not to see the curious glance. “Right now, Chenle.”

Chenle, bless his soul, seems to understand the urgency of the situation because there’s a hurried “okay” and then a flurry of footsteps are heard, close to the source of loud music. He rubs at his temple, and then ㅡ

"Hey." 

He can  _hear_  the smug in Jaemin's voice.

"What have you done?"

A chilling moment of silence, and then his voice pops back through the phone, calm like he's not a second from sprouting the biggest amount of bullshit Mark's heard in a solid two days. "Hyung, why didn't you tell me you kissed Jeno?"

This statement is ridiculous on a basis of reasons. A)  _Jeno_  had kissed Mark, B) it had been a one second, two step mistake, C) it had happened eight months ago, before Jaemin got his shit together and started dating both Renjun  _and_  Jeno, the selfish bastard and D) if this is the reason Mark is locked inside his store right now, he’s going to kill him.

All of this is condensed into careful seven words: “you’re a piece of shit, Na Jaemin.”

The aforementioned piece of shit has the  _audacity_  to giggle and Mark revaluates fifteen years of friendship. "C'mon hyung, it's only for, like, a few hours before someone might come and bail you out. It's because you're always pacing. At least now you can sit down, mediate a little,  _viva la Buddha_  it out."  

"You took out your jealousy on me.  _Me_. You probably persuaded Mrs Lee into your ugly ways, too," he deadpans and backtracks on his words, voice dropping to a horrified whisper. “I can't leave the store, Jaemin. Oh my god, I can’t even  _pee_.”

The stranger in the store laughs unabashedly and Mark remembers with belated regret that he’s heard the whole conversation.

At least his part of it, anyways. 

Jaemin lets out another raucous laugh, hideous to his ears and hurriedly shouts over the music, "Just don't drink anything!" and promptly hangs up.

He drags a hand down his face, setting his phone down on the counter, defeated and his lack of courage appears to be heartbreaking enough for the only other person in his vicinity to give him a sympathetic look that asks 'It's your fault we're stuck here, huh?'

Mark musters enough energy to smile, tight lipped and forced. "On behalf of Seoul City, I apologise for the inconvenience."

"I figured you'd apologise." He glances at the worker's badge. "I mean I have, or should I say  _had_ , somewhere to be."

He wants to ask him what he's doing at 1.10am and decides it's better not to.

"So?" He presses further, basket hanging off his hand, staring the cashier down. "What's it gonna be to compensate me? Lifetime supply of ddeokkbokki? Free hanwoo for a month? No, scratch that ㅡ six months. Free hanwoo and ddeokkbokki for  _six months_ , and I'll pretend this little thing never even happened. I won't sue for ㅡ for ㅡ customer negligence or something."

The boy makes a tempting case and Mark bristles nervously. "Uh ㅡ I can offer you 10% off the next time you come?"

"10%?"

"I mean, the owner of the shop isn't here right now, so I can't make the calls by myself." He attempts to use Joohyun's inevitable wrath (she'll probably drag Jaemin out of his house by the ear, and Mark's going to film the entire thing to play on his deathbed) as a diversion from offering him something he'll definitely regret. "You can ask her when she comes, though?"

( This is a lie, because Joohyun isn't coming. 

She's meditating off the coast of Jeju Island. )

The boy presses his lips into a thin line, his thumb brushing over his plaster. "Get us out of here."

True to the other's words, the next person Mark tries to call is Seulgi, but it goes straight to voicemail and he realises she's probably sleeping, since she's a normal person. Jaemin isn't even an option, Jeno and Renjun don't pick up because they’re definitely in the shady corner of a room at the party and neither do Jisung and Chenle, because they're catching Pokemons without him. His thumb hovers over the name  _Yukhei_  and with a curse, he calls him as the absolute last resort. 

A few seconds feel like an eternity, and then a low voice, "Hello?"

Mark thinks he's never been so glad to hear him. "Yukhei, oh man, I am  _so_  glad I'm hearing your voice. Listen, Yukhei, I need you to ㅡ "

"It's  _Mark_!" Yukhei screams behind him and his heart drops to his stomach when he realises Yukhei is  _drunk_. There's a chorus of "hi Mark!" that he can hear from voices he doesn't recognise, and he pinches the bridge of his nose. "Hey man, sucks to be you, working the night shift, huh?"

"Yeah, I know, God hates me. Listen, Yukhei, this is super importan ㅡ "

"What d'you say? Sorry, sorry, give me a moment ㅡ " the voice is suddenly muffled, shouting into the distance, "hey, Jungwoo hyung! That isn't how you take a shot!"

He hears a "come over and show me how to, then" in the distance and stiffens. He doesn't know who  _Jungwoo hyung_  is, but he suddenly has a strong resentment against him."No, no, Yukhei, don't go, listen to me ㅡ "

"I'll be right there!" He shouts out, and then back to the phone, oblivious to Mark's protests. "Gotta go, buddy, stay safe, alright? Don't forget to lock up." 

"It's already locked, you idiot," he snaps weakly into the phone even though by then Yukhei's already ended the call. He turns around, about to tell the customer that he's had no luck when he sees him, perched on the counter, hand dug deep into the Doritos packet that he's sure he hadn't bought before. "What are you doing?"

"The complimentary bag of Doritos. I'm eating it."

"It's ㅡ why would I give it to you for  _free_?" Sure, he's being frugal but he's certain doesn't want to be on the receiving end of Joohyun's ' _don't give out free food even if the customer is attractive'_  talk if he's already going to be on the receiving end of her  _'don't piss off Jaemin next time!_ ' talk.

"I mean, it is because of you that we're stuck here right now." He counterattacks, mid bite and casual.

"You don't know that, you didn't even hear the whole conversation."

"You literally started with "what have you done?" and ended with "you took out your jealousy on me" so if that doesn't scream your fault, I don't know what does." 

As much as he hates to say so, the other is painstakingly right. "It's not my fault, it's  _his_  fault."

The boy hums in reply, taking out another crisp that signifies the conversation is over and Mark wilts, giving up like the loser he always states he isn't but ends up being. "You know what? It's on me."

He stops eating and squints suspiciously, almost taken aback. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously," He huffs. "It's on me."

A pause.

"Oh dude," he says softly and Mark's eyes almost bulge out of their sockets when he sees the bundle of notes now in the other's hand and he almost looks guilty. "I was just joking, I mean, I was gonna pay, but because you  _insisted_ , a worker, i mean, I  _can't say no_  now, can I? Really ㅡ I'm flattered."

Mark pulls an expression like he's sucking on a sour lemon, managing to morph it into a pained smile. "No, you can't say no. Please ㅡ think of it as a sorry for ruining your evening present." He stops, then adds on, "On behalf of Seoul City."

The boy sends him a grin and Mark musters up the courage (unsurprisingly  _not_  in the name of letting Yukhei and Seulgi have another laughing fit when they view the CCTV) to continue the conversation. "I haven't seen you before," he begins again, "what's your name?"

He has the decency to stop eating before answering. "I’m Donghyuck. I moved here yesterday."

"Oh, that's cool," is the only thing he can reply with, though he can't figure out for the life of him why someone would willingly choose to live in this specific area, as though there isn't Busan, or Ilsan, or just anywhere else. "It's been good so far?"

"I've been here a day." Donghyuck reiterates and Mark thinks _, he's mocking me again._  "I guess the taxi driver from the airport to my house was a great landmark, though."

Mark looks at him flatly. "So how come you came here?" His eyes flicker to the plaster on the other's cheek and he swallows. "Old town wasn't fun enough?"

Clearly he's said something wrong because Donghyuck stops chewing and his legs stop swinging off the counter.

"I guess you could say that." There's a thoughtful air to his words, like he's being cautious about how much he should reveal about himself and Mark gets the idea that an uninteresting town isn't the only reason why they've met today. He resumes shoving his hand inside the packet. "Countrysides aren't that fun."

"No way?" Mark asks, taken aback. He can't remember the last time that he's been to the countryside (probably because you've never  _been_ , you fool, he says to himself) but he has a vague memory of reading about them on wikiHow and decides now is the perfect time to showcase his general knowledge. "Oh. The countryside. I hear the crops are growing really well this year."

To his surprise, Donghyuck lets out a snort that sounds suspiciously similar to stifled laughter. "Yeah. Great harvest this year."

Mark isn't sure what he can say to that and is more than grateful when Donghyuck continues the conversation. "You've never been to the countryside at all, have you?"

"Never." He's quick to admit it, head dipped in embarrassment even when he sees the other's finding-this-hilarious grin. "Born and raised in this city."

"That's quite boring, isn't it?" His head snaps up and he sees Donghyuck's eyes on him, careful and they're analysing him. "And you're just fine with staying here? Not knowing what's beyond the 'welcome' sign?"

It's a topic too personal for someone who he'd met less than an hour ago, yet Mark doesn't get any sketchy vibes so far. He'd always wondered what he'd do when he graduated, which college he'd get into, what he'd pursue, what career path he'd stray down ㅡ but never specified where he'd do so. Maybe he was avoiding that topic for the very same reason he's finding it difficult to answer now. "I mean.. I guess I'd ㅡ "

"Leave, right?" Donghyuck finishes for him, hopping off the counter and looking oddly smug. "That's what I thought too. One place, so many years ㅡ it's bound to get too much after a while."

Admittedly it  _is_  bound to get too much, but it's home to Mark and he's never known anything else. The idea of leaving itself leaves an uncomfortable sensation in the pit of his stomach, like something that doesn't belong but something he so longs for at the same time. It remains unsaid. "I guess so," is his final answer. He hands the baton of questions back. "Have you travelled a lot?"

"Oh, yeah." Donghyuck seems genuinely excited by this as he reaches over to shove the empty packet into the bin. He twists to look at Mark, prideful in his own way. "I've been everywhere. Gwangju, Incheon, Jeonju. You name it. All the places you've never even thought about going? I've been."

"That's so cool." Mark looks as amazed as he feels, though the prospect of the other being good looking, sharp tongued  _and_  possessing a wide variety of knowledge about Korea makes him more jealous than he'd like to admit. And amazed, though that's another story.  "Tell me about them?"

Donghyuck, apparently, finds everything uninteresting because he ends up repeating that word around eight times for the next hour.

Mark is kind of smitten.

-

"Yeah,  _no_."

"What do you mean ' _no_ '? You can't just cut me off in the middle of a senㅡ"

"I  _can_  if your argument is stupid." Donghyuck half snaps, evidently exasperated. "You've lived, what, eighteen, nineteen years? Of your life and you've grown up, thinking that Captain  _Shitmerica_  or whatever would beatㅡ"

"T'challa in a fight? Definitely."

"Amazing." He answers, looking every bit as unamazed as possible. "So ㅡ  _every_  brain cell just not working togethㅡ"

"You know, I think this is uncalled for." Mark interrupts, deciding that he doesn't need to add Donghyuck to his list of people that think he has mushrooms for neurons. 

(To be fair, there's only actually three people on the list and one of them is the ringleader. The other two are just there to support their boyfriend, so it doesn't really count as a list as much as a piece of evidence stored away in the 'Na Jaemin isn't actually Mark's friend' drawer.)

"It's fully called for." Donghyuck, on the other hand, is completely serious. "You've just offended me by saying eight words. I could sue Seoul Cityㅡ"

"ㅡfor customer negligence? Got it. It can be verbal assault too."

It's not something that's entirely funny, but Donghyuck looks at him with mirth twinkling in his eyes and the corners of his mouth curved up all prettily so Mark thinks he's done a pretty decent job so far. Then he proceeds to ask: "So? Are you going to compensate me?"

Mark's kind of dumbfounded. "What?"

"Compensation. We've been through this. In the form of snacks, bulgogi, hanwoo, all the good  _shebang_."

"I already gave you a packet of free Doritos."

Donghyuck stares. "Wasn't that complimentary?"

"It wasn't complimentary."

"I'm sure you said it was."

"No, I definitely said it wasn't."

"It was, wasn't it?"

"It wasn't."

"Oh, it wasn't?"

"No, it was." Mark pauses for a second. "Waitㅡ"

"Knew it." 

Mark doesn't have time to ponder over how he's just been outsmarted using a elementary school tactic (no, really, he'd seen Chenle pull that same trick on Jisung earlier in the week and maybe they're sixteen but that's closer to ten than he is) because Donghyuck's taking a ramen off the shelf as though he deserves it. "You're just going to eat that?"

"Don't be dumb," he replies in a beat, plucking another packet off the same shelf, " _we're_  going to eat that."

Most of Mark knows that this is Donghyuck's way of taking the entire blame off himself. The other part, his stomach, knows that the idea of ramen is more promising than the thought of starving for the next few hours.

It's not surprising what he listens to. "Yeah, fine." He shifts on the spot.

Donghyuck looks unimpressed, so Mark adds on, a little dumbly, "what?"

"This is the point where you ask me whether I need help or not." He doesn't beat around the bush, mouth pursed and absentmindedly picking at his plaster. "And then I'll say yes, I'd  _love_  to get helped by the cute cashier."

His mind blacks out for a second there, because it dawns on him that  _he's_  the cute cashier.

"You're the cute cashier." Donghyuck emphasizes. 

"I figured." Mark blurts out and Jaemin's ' _mushroom for neurons_ ' pops in his head again. "So do you want me to.."

"Get over here." He grumbles, handing the packets over to him. "I bet you drag down the customer service."

( Contrary to popular belief, it's not actually Mark that drags down the pretty decent, if he says so himself, customer service, it'sㅡ

"Me, I know." Yukhei says, head in one hand like he's not the reason Joohyun's losing hair but she's too soft on the younger boys to say anything about it. "That's like, the  _third_  time you've said this today, Mark."

"Maybe it's because that's, like, the  _third_  customer you've scared away." 

Jeno snorts so hard he spills his strawberry milk all over the polished floors and Seulgi kicks him out with an interesting usage of the broom. )

While Mark ㅡ  _he_ ㅡ makes the ramen, he acts like he's not eyeing Donghyuck from the corner of his eye.

He's seated on one of the tables, legs hanging off the edge and feet planted on the chair as he scrolls through his phone. He seems oddly calm for someone who would be stuck in a store with an, admittedly less so now, but still, stranger for the next  _god knows how long_  hours, a neutral expression on his features. He lifts a hand to run fingers through his hair, humming a song underneath his breath that Mark thinks he heard on the radio the other day.

Mark's gaze is drawn to the smeared eyeshadow again, pretty upon pretty, the plaster on the cheek and now the almost tired look in the boy's eyes when he thinks the cashier isn't looking.

He feels like there's something he doesn't know about him and it's reasonable, considering they barely know each other, but he  _wants_  to know.

Sure, it's cliched, the old story of new boy in old town, a splash of colour against gray but Donghyuck is  _different_ , looks different, acts different. Outspoken, sharp tongued, sardonic in the way he presents himself.

He stares down at their ramen, stirring them with chopsticks and suddenly wondering why the other had been so vague about his reasons for moving. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" He's then called out of his reverie by an amused Donghyuck, who's resting with his chin resting on the palm of his open hand. "You looked like you were thinking real hard about how many times to stir the ramen."

Mark scoffs as he carries the two bowls over, nudging Donghyuck with his elbow as he sets them on the table so he'll sit down on the chair. "Yeah, you bet. I think I remember something in circle theorem to do with this. Professor Song would be so proud of me if she saw me now."

The other hums in reply, blowing on the surface of his noodles. "I heard Professor Song is nasty towards new students. Hope I'll be fine."

He barely has time to register what he had heard before he answers. "She doesn't, as long as you hand in your homework on time and remember equations." He draws in his eyebrows together, a crease forming between them as he backtracks on his words. "Wait, you don't go to my school."

"I just moved here, Mark," Donghyuck answers a little impatiently, like he's teaching a child, "and there's, like, one high school near here. Chances are I'll be going to the same one as you. There's not a problem, is there?"

He shakes his head. "Good, I'd hate to move again so quickly."

There's something in the way he says it that causes Mark's curiosity to be piqued once more. "When was the last time you stayed in a place for more than a short time?"

Donghyuck pauses, mid bite of ramen and swallows. "Before I came here, I s'pose. I'd been living there for two and a half years." He throws Mark a look. "I know, that's practically  _nothing_  compared to you and your ㅡ lack of adventure outside this exceedingly interesting town, but it was long for me. Even started to feel a little like home."

He sounds wistful.

"The town must have suddenly turned way too boring, then, if you left it after loving it that much."

He doesn't answer, only shrugs. "Guess it was dumb of me to think I could stay in a place for longer than a certain amount of time."

 _I'd like it if you stayed here,_  Mark almost lets loose, but something in his expression must give it away because Donghyuck seems to get the message anyways, turning on him with a flattered smile. 

"Hey, Mark?" He asks.

"Yeah?"

He points in his direction with the chopsticks. "There's a noodle stuck to your upper lip."

He makes a noise halfway between a groan and an embarrassed 'shit' before he turns around to get rid of the offending thing, pretending he can't hear Donghyuck's cackle behind him. "Must have been attractive to see when you were eating.”

“Oh, yeah. Super attractive.” He answers snarkily, though the fact that he's finding this funny is clear underneath. "Didn't even know it was possible for someone to get so mystified by their noodles."

"Weren't you the one that stooped to cheating me out to get free ramen, though?" He shoots back.

"I guess you drop your morality when you're hungry and stuck in a store because of someone, right?" He swirls his leftover noodles with his chopsticks before popping them into his mouth to lick off the excess broth. Mark pretends he doesn't watch. "Anyways. Enough  _touchés_ , even though I'm clearly winning. Aren't you going to tell me about yourself?"

That does seem to be the reasonable thing to do, considering it's between that or eating the entirety of the store and he thinks his heart doesn't have enough strength for that. He wants to know more about Donghyuck but something tells him that the other isn't as pliable to opening up as he is. Not now, anyways. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything." Donghyuck replies. "It's your opportunity to impress the country boy."

Mark isn't really that impressive of a person yet it doesn't stop Donghyuck from saying that's what makes the storytelling better. He'd been born here, raised here, practically did everything here except for two weeks of overseas studying in Canada to hone the English skills he already had due to his parents' multilingual skills. He'd grown up with practically the same friendsㅡ

("I don't think you can call them friends if they locked us in here.")

ㅡhad a regular week of school, school, school, school, school, work, work, rinse, repeat until he'll eventually drop from exhaustion. 

It all sounds too negative so he doesn't forget to talk about the things he loves. He talks about the fact that the rooftop in his school is never locked, so he often finds himself there after school to peer over the city and how he has the opportunity to feel like he's above the world. He talks about how he knows the perfect place to watch the sunset, another to watch the sunrise and he knows that the deeper you go into the roads, behind the obvious shops, the better and more  _authentic_  everything is.

He talks about Jaemin, and Jeno and Renjun, and Jisung and Chenle and the amount of affection he's built up for them over time. The way they had all linked together, Mark and Jaemin first, before Jeno and Renjun and eventually the youngest intertwined through connections and he wouldn't have it any other way. He talks about how when he was six years old his parents had bought him his first guitar and ever since, he's never stopped playing. It's not the exact same guitar, but he talks about how he writes songs, teaches himself some and likes to sing to nobody in particular.

"You can sing to me." Donghyuck interrupts, like the thought isn't aiding in turning Mark's ears a shade of red. "I sing too. Probably better than you, I can be your coach and all. It'll be cute."

Mark's on the swim team, too, as well as debate club and part of  a group of students trying to get extra credit. He doesn't mention how he's stretching himself thin because he's scared he won't have any opportunities when he's older and if he fails at one, at least he'll have another to fall back on.

"Don't you guys have a singer songwriter society, or club or whatever?" 

 _They do._ "We don't."

"You should make one." Donghyuck drops in casually. "You'd steal everyone's hearts, boys and girls alike. You could be the church oppa or whatever that sings hymns on Sunday and Rihanna every other day."

"Mm." Mark tries to sound convincing, and knows it doesn't pass by the way he can see Donghyuck's eyebrows arch in surprise. He thinks now is a good time to change the topic. "Why don't you tell me about yourself? I barely know anything."

"Maybe I  _wanted_  it that way. Now when I kill you, I know the perfect excuses to make up for your untimely death." Mark scoffs at this. "I'm joking. Forget about it, though. My life's even more boring than yours. Almost impossible, I know, but it still is."

He highly doubts it, and makes sure to tell him. "No, seriously. I've already told you everything about my visits, and there's nothing interesting after that. Born in the countryside, moved to the city for like, six months, went back, moved to another city, another, another, back to the countryside, another, eventually came here. It's an endless cycle."

 _Why did you move here, Donghyuck?_  He wants to ask.  _What happened?_

"What about your family?" Is the replacement question for that. Donghyuck stiffens.

"What about them?" Mark thinks he hears an edge in his voice and knows he's messed up. "Only child. I live with my aunt right now. My parents are on business somewhere."

He's not sure what to say to that, but he's understood.

"Yeah, I know, sounds depressing, right?" Donghyuck laughs, and it's dry, void (or at least lacking) in the humour that he'd showed minutes before. "I haven't seen them in a two weeks. It'll probably be a month, two if I'm lucky."

Mark furrows his eyebrows. "Why would you be lucky if you don't see your parents for that long?" 

"Yours are dipped in sugar, maybe, mine aren't." Is his reason, short and to the point. "The longer I don't see them for, in my opinion, the better."

After being growing up besides them, being doted on like he's worth the universe and a half and just a pinch more, the idea of being somewhere without his parents is one he doesn't want to think about. When he looks across him at Donghyuck though, who bristles at the mention of his own and looks more aggravated than not, Mark just knows he's one of the luckier ones.

A moment passes, and Mark stands up. "I'll clear up." He doesn't leave space for argument, leaning over to take the other's bowl and dropping them off in the sink. Donghyuck follows silently, the most quiet he's been for the past two hours, hovering but not quite helping like he doesn't know what to do. 

It's too quiet.

Donghyuck breaks it first. "I didn't mean it in a bad way. The sugar thing."  _Mark knows he didn't._  "I just don't think you'll get why I don't like my parents. It's ㅡ it's too against what you've probably been raised hearing."

Usually, Mark hates it when people tell him things like that. Hates the closemindedness they think he has, that he won't comprehend. But it's  _Donghyuck_ , who he doesn't know as well as he wants to, who's trying to open up even if they've been lumped together after an unfortunate revenge plan, who seems genuinely apologetic about the possibility of coming across as blindingly irritated and lashing out.

"Maybe," Mark nods, the lump in his throat dissolving. "It's fine, Donghyuck, I'm not annoyed or anything." _I'm just curious._

"Look at us." Donghyuck says, amusement laced in his tone. "Two hours into knowing each other and we've already had our first couple argument. I think that calls for a celebration, don't you?"

He doesn't really think it does, but there's (most likely, because people like Wong Yukhei and Park Jisung exist in the world) more questionable things that have been celebrated.  “Are you going to ask for compensation?”

“Not if you give it willingly,” there’s a slightly coy tone to his words. “Come on. I apologised, _kind of_ , and I’m a growing boy ㅡ think of how many times I’m going to get hungry after this, and how much  _quicker_  we’ll both be able to eat if you just let me pick and choose as I please.”

This might possibly be the one of the worst argument that Mark’s ever heard in his history of customers trying to get free food from him and Seoul City (the worst one being Chenle insisting that his dog eats ‘ _the kimbap on the third shelf of the fridge and nothing else’)_ yet it’s still one that he’s unfortunately fallen victim to.

So he stops washing the dishes, huffs and jabs his elbow in the direction of the snacks, as though the other doesn’t know.

What he gets to learn is that when Donghyuck smiles in that mixture of delight and smugness, the corners of his eyes curve up ever so slightly so that they’re almost crescent half moons and he tilts his head to the left, lips turning up, unmistakably pleased.

Before Mark’s able to say something stupid, the other darts to the nearest shelf, examining its contents. “I knew you’d eventually crack.” He calls out from behind. Not this soon, though, I thought it’d be by the fourth hour.”

He dries off his hands to join him in the scavenge, hoping that Joohyun won’t try and have both of their heads on a stick for the raid of the store but she knows he’s always had the weakest will and there's no doubt that the footage is going to prove that. "Glad to see you had  _that_  much trust in me."

Donghyuck resurfaces from behind the shelves, a basket full of pepero in one hand and Mark stares into the camera like he's on The Office.

-

The clock strikes half three when they've finished playing monopoly.

An air of boredom has obviously crept in, rendering the pair tired and whereas they'd been able to ignore it at the beginning the over-hype of receiving a  _'Get Out Of Jail!'_  card for the eighth time just isn't cutting it anymore. Donghyuck's phone has died and he won't stop complaining about it even if he's the type that doesn't carry a portable charger and wire with him, saying something about leaving it up to Mother Nature. 

He calls it connecting with the earth, Mark calls it natural selection.

"I can't believe you own an android," Donghyuck hisses at the other, charging his Samsung in all its glory in the corner of his room though the glare he shoots is a little baleful if he's being honest, "in 20- _fucking_ -18. If you had an Apple, would've been  _fantastic_. We could have taken it in turns to charge our phones up to like 20%, drain it, then repeat the whole thing again. But no, I can't even plug your damn charger into my phone while you can sit there looking at 240p videos."

Mark looks at him pitifully at best, holding out a pepero that the other takes aggressively, mumbling under his breath about the exploding androids. It shouldn't be funny but it really  _is_. "Maybe this is just the Higher Entity's way of telling us we should talk to each other."

"Oh, you're smooth." Donghyuck offers helpfully as an answer, mid bite and as unimpressed as he could possibly have been. "And the Higher Entity couldn't have done that by, like, putting you as the kid that takes me on a tour around school or something?"

He learns very quickly that a deviceless Donghyuck is a tactless Donghyuck.

At this very moment, Mark's phone lights up, Gucci Gang blasting through the empty store. He opens his mouth to make some sort of excuse ('no it wasn't  _me_  that set it', 'it was a  _bet'_ , 'it was a  _dare'_ ) but Donghyuck shakes his head and tries not to look as entertained as he is.

The name on the screen reads Satan and Mark's never picked up so quickly.

"What." He snaps almost as soon as the call connects, hoping his irritation can be somewhat converted to guilt by the human embodiment of a headache. "Are you here to tell me that you're coming now to maybe, like, _unlock the door?_  Right now?"

There's an eerie pause. He knows immediately that something's  _wrong_.

"Hey, so, Mark," Jaemin begins. He's speaking in that voice that he uses when he's made an awful mistake, but is too prideful to admit so and ends up pinning the blame on the victim. Jisung has rightfully titled it the 'Jaemin is a frat boy' voice and it twists something awful in Mark's chest.

"What did you do this time?"

"Mrs Lee. Uh ㅡ I was supposed to take the key from her ten minutes ago, but I think she's, like, passed out dude." Jaemin runs through the whole thing quickly. "Yeah, I knocked on the door. Bodyslammed it,  just for you, Chenle offered to get a locksmith to break the lock and ㅡ yeah, Jeno told us it was a stupid idea. It's just not  _working_. So ㅡ "

" ㅡ so the door's locked until Seulgi comes in the morning." Mark finishes, trying not to sound like he's knee deep in despair (he is, around chest deep actually) and too tired to start yelling at Jaemin. That, and he feels like if he starts shouting, Donghyuck's going to kick his ass for not keeping peace. "I literally can't believe you. You made your point and now you're too dumb to unmake it."

"It's not my fault Mrs Lee couldn't stay awake for that long!" Jaemin barks back into the phone, commencing exactly the second phase of the 'Jaemin is a frat boy' voice. "I thought she could handle it. God, she's only, like, sixty, it's pathetic, my grandma pulled an all nighter yesterday and she's seventy."

"Mrs Lee had her eightieth birthday a month ago, you spaghetti for brains," Mark says with a shrill tone and Donghyuck's laughing behind him, "and your grandmother is seventy four. You're so  _stupid_."

"You think you're hotshit for knowing the birthdays of two elderly women when one of them was locking you in and you didn't even realise because your ugly ass was playing Piano Tiles?" Jaemin makes a very, very good point, much to his dismay. "I hope you piss in your diaper, you big baby."

The call ends abruptly with Mark making a noise not unlike an ' _oh my god_ '.

He figures out belatedly that that makes a total of three phone calls he's gone through today where he sounds like he's insane and Donghyuck probably thinks he's every bit of the idiot that Jaemin will tell him he is on Monday morning.

Except, he's met with, "best friend, huh?"

And even in a situation such as this, he can't deny the obvious. "Yeah, unfortunately. Jaemin's apologising for getting us stuck in here but I'm willing to bet he's laughing to himself right now."

"You should keep him," Donghyuck says with such sincerity that Mark's taken aback. "I mean, getting an elderly janitor to do this shit for him? He must be the messiah of old people or something like that, it's wonderful."

He's not sure what type of logic that is yet it doesn't make complete nonsense. People have always had a sort of liking to Jaemin, with his sweet smile and excellent way with words that had twisted Mark into being his friend every since the first day of elementary school. 

This is the moment where he should be thinking of all the times that Jaemin's had his back, like when he beat up the boy that called Mark's glasses ugly in the second grade even if they really  _were_  hideous, when he patted Mark on the back and helped him through his first unhetero crisis, when he turned down the girls that left love letters on Mark's desk because he felt too bad to do so himself.

What he says is, "he's more like Regina George," and that seems to be the most fitting description. 

He makes a note to tell Renjun and Jeno this.

Donghyuck lets out a surprised laugh. "Don't we all have one. He looks out for you, though, I can tell."

He feels like he should ask how the other knows that when they're stuck in this position, but doesn't. "If everyone has one, who's yours?"

The smile slips off Donghyuck's face for a brief second, before it's back and porcelain, on the verge of slipping off or cracking again. "I'm an exception."

 _You had one though, I can tell,_  Mark thinks, before the other continues. "I don't need one, I can entertain myself just fine." It sounds solemn, that, though it's obvious he's trying to pass it off as anything but lonely. "I mean, I'd rather not have one and be out free than have one and have them trap me in a store."

"You don't have one but you're still stuck in the store," Mark shoots back to ease the quietness he's afraid would take over again.

The other's lips curl distinctly, the brief beginnings of a smile. "I thought that was the work of the Higher Entity."

It's pretty ironic, considering Mark thinks Donghyuck is ethereal enough to be a carved statue of the Gods, though he's too shy to say it to his face. Instead, he says, "maybe it's just the work of God trying to find you a friend."

Mark ducks to avoid the pepero box thrown his way rather accurately.

-

It's no surprise that when dawn begins to break, Mark finds Donghyuck irrevocably awe inducing. 

Like now, how they're seated on the ground next to each other, backs pressed against the wall on the cafe half of Seoul City. Donghyuck has his head on Mark's shoulder, tilted slightly as he reads a page of the book that Yukhei's left behind out loud. He's not sure when they had moved into this position, just that it had felt right to morph into this shape and he'd just let it happen.

But it's getting increasingly hard to focus on the words that he can hear. Not when he can see every nook and cranny of Donghyuck's features from here that the start of sunlight captures, the glow of the bright that illuminates him.The slight squint of his eyes as he concentrates on reading out loud, the tip of his upturned nose, sunkissed skin, lips pushed out as he emphasizes on certain vowels. 

 _He's beautiful_. 

The sudden realisation is a pivot for Mark. He'd known, ever since he'd caught sight of Donghyuck in the store, that he was attractive in every physical way possible. But hours have passed and though the past is a mystery, the effortless tact and sarcasm, amusing side comments coupled with moments where accepts his mistakes and apologises doesn't change Mark's initial view of him at all.

It refines it even further, polishing it off until Donghyuck is gold in this grey town, like the sun.

But he wonders how much of it is attraction and how much of it is the feeling that Mark might be falling in love so quick. 

There's always been a thin line between the two for him. Ever since elementary school, middle school, high school, he'd worn his heart on his sleeve even when he tried to hide it fruitlessly. He'd mistake admiration for attraction; a crush for love; respect for adoration. There's nothing stopping him from making the same mistake now, with a new person entirely.

The thought of that leaves a gap in his chest.

He must have been still for too long, because now the quiet voice reading the book is fading until it stops entirely. It takes Mark a few seconds to realise Donghyuck is looking up at him with an unreadable expression, something halfway between curiosity and daring. 

It's so quiet, Mark's afraid that if he breathes too loud it'll disturb the serenity between the two that's been created. But Donghyuck has other ideas, standing up and dropping the book on the table.

Then he turns, towering over Mark before he stretches out his hand as an offer. His fingers are thin and long, inviting to hold and clasp. The message comes across eerily quickly, like their thoughts are synced up.

He takes his hand and hauls himself up, dropping down on the chair next to the one the other's occupied, feet up on the table. Mark notices that they're still holding hands when Donghyuck creates little circles with his thumb over his knuckles, looking unexpectedly distant. There's no doubt that it's just an action of habit, a distraction, but it still causes something in his stomach to jump.

"I was scared to move here, you know." Donghyuck starts, tone heavy and barely audible.

He  _sounds_  scared, anxious and so unlike himself. Mark decides that he hates the idea of Donghyuck feeling worried about anything, especially if he looks like this. "I only know a few other people besides my aunt and ㅡ it's just a  _small_  town. I feel like everyone talks when someone new comes. Someone that doesn't fit in. Like me."

Mark doesn't say anything.

"It's  _stupid_  ㅡ I'm so used to moving from place to place that I isolate myself from where I am. From people living there, because I'm not sure when I'm going to have to leave next and I'm terrified they'll hate me for leaving." He stops rubbing circles. "But you,  you're the first ㅡ the  _first_  ㅡ person that hasn't just seen me as another new weirdo. Maybe it's because we were forced together here but it ㅡ it makes me want to stay. It makes me see this place as something like home. And I thought I'd forgotten what that felt like."

"I don't  _fit_  into places like other people can, and my parents just keep finding places for us to live where I feel like I don't belong. I'm more hopeful this time, because my parents aren't here but I feel like it can only last for so long. Like it's going to disappear soon and I'll have to go back to them." He shakes his head. "I don't want to stop feeling like this. Even though I felt like this last time, and it just didn't work out, my hopes keep rising because I meet people like you and ㅡ and ㅡ "

Donghyuck drifts off and he looks so  _hurt_. The plaster on his cheek, the dimness in his eyes, the regret that's visible from having opened up too much. The cashier hates it.

"Donghyuck," Mark begins, carefully, "what happened that made you move here?"

It's like a switch is flipped because suddenly, there's a fresh wave of wet in Donghyuck's eyes and Mark balks. "Oh, Donghyuck, I'm ㅡ "

"It's fine." Donghyuck answers, sniffing, though it's obviously not fine if he's on the brink of crying. "You'd have found out anyways because people talk but I'd rather just tell you rather than you hear it from someone else."

"You don't have to if you don'tㅡ"

"I want to, Mark." His voice is more sharp this time, less waver though there's a sense that if he was pushed, it wouldn't go too well. He inhales, and then, "I'm ㅡ I'm  _gay_."

The words don't quite resonate in his head properly at first, but when they do, it hits him like a train. Donghyuck is  _gay_. And he's waiting for Mark's reaction, anxiety coming off him in waves as though someone's going to come in and point at him,  _laugh_  at him. Mark bites the inside of his cheek and wraps his fingers around Donghyuck's carefully, as not to overwhelm him. "So what?"

Donghyuck scoffs. " _They_  didn't like it. People didn't like it. I had a boyfriend, at my old town, but we kept it secret because he wasn't gay, according to him. And I waited for him, because I was fucking  _stupid_." His eyes flicker down. "One night, we were supposed to go somewhere and I was waiting for him but he just didn't show up. Until a group of his friends did and I just knew ㅡ " 

_He lied, didn't he?_

"I just knew he made up some bullshit. I didn't know they'd start beating me though, calling me names, telling me I was disgusting," his voice wavers again and Mark's free hand rolls into a fist, eyes drawn to the plaster on Donghyuck's cheek. "And then ㅡ he, my boyfriend, turns up, and he ㅡ do you know what he said?"

Mark shakes his head.

"He told me ' _that's what you get for being a freak'_."

There's stages to his anger, and it almost reaches white. "You're not a  _freak_ , Donghyuck, you're gay. The people who think that's wrong are the freaks, you  _know_  that." 

"That's not what my parents thought." His voice is even quieter. "Everywhere I went, people pointed fingers, said I was dysfunctional. It drove my parents mad, not because I got beaten, but because people thought I was  _gay_. They never understood it anyways, so as soon as it got too much we just up and packed, they shoved me at my aunt's, which was the best thing they've ever done. She cares for me, more than I think they ever did."

( _Yours are dipped in sugar, maybe, mine aren't._ )

It makes so much more sense.

"I left because I was gay, and I didn't want to think about what they might have done if I stayed."

He's biting down on his tongue at this point, frustration at the narrowmindedness of people, frustrated at the way Donghyuck had been treated. "You didn't deserve that, Donghyuck, you don't. Nobody does. They're not  _people_ , they're just leeches who thrive off people that are better than them." Mark states. "You deserve so much better than what that  _shitty_  town, and what your  _shitty_  ex did to you and people are going to love you here. I know they are."

Donghyuck laughs in disbelief, and Mark can see the tell tale tracks of dried wetness on his cheeks. Mark realises this must be the first time someone's said that to him since the whole ordeal. "Jesus, you're just an inspirational talker, aren't you? You ㅡ I don't know what I did in my past life to meet you."

"You didn't do anything, Donghyuck," Mark murmurs. "I'm not anything special, I'm just a human. If there's anyone special, it's you."

The look Donghyuck gives him is worth it all, every word of adoration, surprise, acceptance folded into itself onto his expression. It's so heartbreaking, that people haven't told him that enough. and he promptly bursts into tears. Mark isn't surprised at all. 

Everyone's prone to breaking,  _god_ , he knows. 

He stands up to rustle through the cupboards for tissue and a large blanket, returning with hurried footsteps to see Donghyuck waiting for him. He reaches out to snatch the tissues, turning around to wipe at his face. "I can't believe I told you everything within the first seven hours of meeting you," Donghyuck hisses, blowing his nose, "this is so fucking embarrassing. I look so fucking ugly when I cry, you piece of shit."

It's Mark's turn to laugh this time at the flurry of insults, though he's just glad Donghyuck's managed to forget the horrors of the world enough to insult him rapidly. "You look beautiful, Donghyuck, stop calling me a piece of shit."

Donghyuck throws his tissues in the direction of the bin (it misses by a good four metres) and slams his face down, twisting his cheek to face Mark. "Unbelievable. It's like you've read every charm book in the world." He huffs, looking at the clock. "It's almost six. I'm going to sleep before people find me all teary eyed and I'll be known as that new kid who had a breakdown within the first day."

Mark lifts up the blanket, shuffling his chair closer so that it can cover the both of them. He mirrors Donghyuck's actions, though with less force, because he's not in the mood to have the metal engraving pressed into his cheek.

He hears Donghyuck snort.

It might as well be one of the most uncomfortable ways to sleep, but he feels Donghyuck pull his hand up onto the table and intertwine their fingers together and it feels better than any bed he'd be able to find.

He starts drifting off to sleep, but not before he hears a murmured, "I'm glad your friend is fucking petty."

-

"Who is  _thatㅡ_ "

"This is fucking unbelievable, the mushroom for neurons has the audacity to get pissed off at me when he's out here holding hands with some pretty boㅡ"

"Jaemin, shut up, I think you'll wake them up before I get a picture." 

Mark stirs in his sleep, and he hears the annoyingly loud sound of a camera going off. It's a reluctant move when he peels his eyes open but when he does, he's met face to face with a smug looking Seulgi with a phone in her hand, an amused Renjun and a bemused Jaemin.

He darts up immediately with an undiscovered force (it's the  _Higher Entity_ , he knows it is) and his fingers curl into Jaemin's collar, inches away from tapping into his inner Renjun and considering the idea of choking the life out of him. "Youㅡ"

"Get your hands off me, Mark Lee," Jaemin glares back, shoving him off though Mark can see the grin that's about to form on his mouth. "Good sleep?"

"I'll literally kill you." Mark deadpans, as though it's the simplest thing in the world.

"You can't kill him before you tell us who  _he_  is." Seulgi jabs a sharp elbow into his side that he narrowly avoids before he looks at Donghyuck.

Donghyuck's stirring by now, but even then he manages to look prettier than Mark ever will.

His eyes flutter open in confusion, locking with Mark's for a second before moving around to see the other three and startles in his seat. "Shit," he complains, pressing a hand over his chest, "could you be any more terrifying? It's like the four horsemen of the apocalypse."

Seulgi's grin widens comically. "Who is this?"

"This is Donghyuck," Mark steps in usefully because the stranger in question still looks like he's on the verge of answering questionably, "he moved here two days ago. And he got locked in with me after Jaemin's spectacular idea that turned out to be dumb as shit."

Renjun clicks his tongue. "You poor thing, Donghyuck. I'm Renjun. Jeno isn't here right now, because the idiot fell asleep on the train, but I'm sure you'll get to meet him later."

"I'm Seulgi," she says, grin getting larger as her eyes flicker between Donghyuck and Mark. "And I'm going to go check the CCTV footage now, if you don't mind me. It was lovely meeting you, Donghyuck. Come around more, alright?"

Donghyuck nods, no doubt a little befuddled by Seulgi's excitement as he turns his eyes on the remaining boy.

A second passes, before Renjun steps on his boyfriend's foot. Jaemin hisses in displeasure and throws his most blinding grin that makes Mark want to swallow rocks. "Sorry, Donghyuck. It's  _so_  nice to meet you, I'mㅡ"

"Oh my god," Donghyuck cuts him off, fingers wrapped around Mark's wrist, "it's Regina George."

Mark cackles at the horrified expression on Jaemin's face.

**Author's Note:**

> title is taken from john legend's 'save room'  
> thanks for reading this even though this was really just me opening up the dictionary and shoving random words together!!  
> [[ cc ]](http://curiouscat.me/sunkissing) & [[ twitter ]](http://twitter.com/solcentrism)


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